


Merigold v. Vengerberg: Attorneys at War

by Rhetoric



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attorneys, Boss/Employee Relationship, Cunnilingus, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Lawyers, Legal Drama, Lesbian Sex, Orgasm, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Workplace Relationship, Workplace Sex, f/f - Freeform, f/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-09-30 14:48:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20448884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhetoric/pseuds/Rhetoric
Summary: A modern-day courtroom drama AU set against the backdrop of crime ridden Vizima.When a former convict is charged with attempted murder, two rival attorneys soon find their battle gets hot and heavy in a way they didn’t expect!STARRINGTriss Merigoldas the fiery defenderANDYennefer Vengerbergas the ice-cold prosecutorIt’ll be somewhat slow to build up – there is a plot – but the smut will come. Could even end up like my earlier stories, stay tuned!





	1. All Rise for Judge Demavend

Bright red nails tap the top of an ebony piano case as a sigh escapes the lips of Triss Merigold, who stands waiting between the piano and an open window, looking out to the street below. She’s wearing her work clothes; an emerald green pantsuit that hugs her curves, and a shirt with numerous buttons undone which shows off her ample bust and the gold pendant resting on her chest. Her reddish hair is tied up in two buns behind her head, and her makeup is simple but effective.

A taxi pulls up and stops on the side of the street. Triss spins in her platform heels, grabs her briefcase off the piano and saunters out the door of her modest downtown apartment. By the time she makes it down to the sidewalk, the taxi driver is blaring the horn and yelling, “Come on lady, hurry it up!”

She calmly gets in the back seat, looks at him through the mirror and says, “The courthouse. Make it quick.” Surprised by her attitude and a bit distracted by her cleavage, the driver just sits still for a few seconds.

“Come on _boy_, hurry it up”, she says suddenly and with a sly grin. The driver snaps back to reality and gets going fast, almost pulling out right into the path of another car. Once they’re on the road, he starts fiddling with the radio. Triss does not appreciate this.

“Turn off the goddamned radio.”

“Woah lady, chill out. It’s just something to listen to while I-“

“I didn’t ask what you were fucking doing with it. I told you to turn it off. I need peace and quiet while I look over my notes.”

“Whatever. Jeez…” The driver gives up, shaking his head in frustration.

Triss sets her briefcase on the seat beside her and opens it. Inside is a mug shot of her client atop bundles of notes and documents. She smiles when she sees the photo.

_Samuel Bochanan. He’s got a kind of charm to him, if a bit rugged and gruff. The conversations I’ve had with him have all been pleasant. So far he’s responded well to my assertive strategies and been nothing short of polite, unlike some of my earlier clients. Whereas they would pepper me with lecherous ‘compliments’ (who the hell tells their lawyer they have a juicy booty? Ugh, Bradley was a nightmare to deal with), Samuel is one of the few who has treated me like the professional I am. Frankly though, at this point he’s built up enough goodwill to be a little naughty around me if he wanted to…_

The accused construction worker is in his late 40’s and built like a log. Thickset, muscly arms covered in tattoos, and a modern side-swept haircut.

He certainly looks a bit naughty. Coupled with his prior convictions and the context of the crime, I can see why he’s the prime suspect.

She picks up a folder containing his criminal record. Flicking through the entries, she muses on Samuel’s prior convictions.

Vandalism, battery, fisstech distribution. He was a productive member of the Salamandra, no doubt about it. A proper asshole. But he’s sworn to me that he’s put that all behind him, and I’m inclined to believe him on both a personal and professional level.

Triss replaces the folder and picks up a document that details his work history since serving his last sentence.

Plumbing, construction, volunteer work. Nowadays he’s a productive member of civilian society. Losing this case would put an abrupt end to that and ruin the life of an innocent man.

She takes a deep breath.

I can’t lose this case.

* * *

Stiletto heels click-clack on tile flooring as Yennefer Vengerberg hurries to her office, glancing out the corridor’s floor-to-ceiling windows to see the crowded streets far below. Paralegals and interns alike ogle her slim, fit body as she passes by. She’s dressed sharply in a black suit, a shirt with only the top two buttons undone and a black choker, from which a beautiful medallion hangs. Her wavy, raven black hair flows past her shoulders and frames her pale, elegant features.

“I left your coffee on your desk Ms. Vengerberg. It should still be hot…”, one of the interns anxiously says. Yennefer keeps walking, giving them no acknowledgment whatsoever.

She arrives at her office and steps inside. Light filters in through half-open blinds to illuminate the small room, which is full of meticulously labelled cabinets and boxes. A steaming cup of coffee perches at the edge of her desk, next to several neat piles of documents and her computer. Sitting down, Yennefer takes a deep breath and an even deeper sip of her coffee in preparation of the long workday. She’s about to launch into her paperwork when there’s a series of quick raps on her door before it suddenly opens and a man enters. He’s middle-aged and somewhat handsome but has a noticeable gut.

“Yen, there you are! Everybody’s excited to see how you do in the Bochanan trial this afternoon. It’s a juicy case and we’re all jealous you got to take it. You’re probably stressed out with all the pressure, yeah?”

Sighing internally, Yennefer replies, “I’ve got this, Ted. Your concern is appreciated but entirely unwarranted. And don’t call me Yen.”

Ignoring her last note, her colleague continues, “Frankly Yen, I’m still surprised they let you take this case. No offense and all, but you’ve got way less experience than me or even half the people in this firm.”

“What can I say, my skills speak for themselves. I’m clearly the right woman for the job.”

“Heh. Some people are saying you might have used some other skills to land this case…” He unsubtly winks.

__

_Piss off Ted._

Yennefer remains stoic, “Will that be all? I’ve got a busy morning and I’d like to get started right away.”

“Eh, yeah, that’s all. Good luck Yen.” He leaves before she can scold him.

__

_I work in an office full of pigs. Wonderful._

Sighing, she takes another sip of coffee and then begins leafing through the documents on her desk, pulling out a detailed profile of the defendant.

__

_Samuel Bochanan. Looks like my type; tall, burly, gruff. Pity he’s just felonious scum, but that’s how it goes. His record certainly indicates that he could have committed the crime. But did he? I don’t think I particularly care. The city wants him prosecuted, and he didn’t take the plea bargain, so I’m going to do my job._

Yennefer sets the profile to the side and picks up the document detailing the crime Samuel has been accused of.

__

_Aggravated battery and attempted murder of Anita Carellas. 23 years old, works at a local diner, volunteers at a nearby dog shelter, lives in the apartment right next to Samuel’s. Currently sitting in a coma in Vizima Central Hospital, survivability uncertain. She was cute… before her head was bashed in with the swimming trophy she earned in her sophomore year._

A graphic photo of Anita’s head wound slips out and lands on Yennefer’s desk. She glimpses it for a split second before closing her eyes and shaking her head.

__

_Nope. I saw enough of that when I was compiling my offense. I’m **not** going into the trial today with an upset stomach._

She slides it away before opening her eyes again and moving on to the thin evidence folder.

__

_Admittedly, we don’t have a lot of evidence to work with. From the outside it looks rather flimsy, but so does the defence. No eyewitnesses, but also an awful alibi. If I play this right, I can shore up our side and shred theirs at the same time._

She smirks.

__

_They don’t stand a chance._

* * *

Slamming the taxi door behind her, Triss begins climbing the steps up to the courthouse, only stopping to greet a handful of jurists she recognises on the way. One of them breaks away to walk and talk with her, curious about the case she’s taking. Many of the men and women keep their eyes on her bubble butt as she goes past. Triss is aware of the eye-fucks she’s receiving, and it only brings a smile to her lips.

__

_All eyes on me. Just as it should be._

Inside the grand building, Yennefer is sitting down and enjoying her fourth coffee of the day while flicking through a magazine, enjoying the boutique fashion and models on display. Her respite is interrupted when she is approached by a group of sad-looking civilians full of questions.

__

_Anita’s family. Bloody wonderful._

Time slows to a standstill when Triss’ path brings her in view of Yennefer. Their eyes meet, they scowl, and they quickly excuse themselves from their conversations to go butt heads.

“_Merigold_.”

“_Vengerberg_.”

Their mutual sneer is palpable.

“It’s been a while since we’ve faced off. If our last trial is anything to go by, I’ll have secured victory within the hour.”

Triss scoffs and says, “You seem to be forgetting our first clash. You know the one where I royally kicked your ass?”

Yennefer squints and lets out a “Hmph”. Triss does the same. Tense silence takes over the space between them for what feels like an age, only broken when the bailiff approaches and clears his throat.

“Ladies, the proceedings will begin shortly. You’d do well to get in there before the Judge. He’s very… punctual.”

Simultaneously and with great spite, the two respond with, “So am I.”

* * *

The gallery in the courtroom is half full, mostly consisting of interested legal practitioners, reporters, and Anita’s family. Triss and Yennefer sit at their tables, flicking through their notes and never giving each other so much as a glance.

Eventually the bailiff announces, “All rise for Judge Demavend.”

Everyone stands and watches as a grey haired, obscenely overweight man takes his position at the head of the court.

With a wide smile, he addresses the two attorneys with some degree of condescension and lechery, “Ah, I finally have the pleasure of presiding over both of you lovely ladies! I sincerely hope you’ve both reconciled your differences and lost the catty attitudes towards each other. It’s always such a shame when promising young attorneys tear each other down rather than build each other up, especially when it’s a pair of bright women in a workplace overflowing with men, eh?”

__

_She’s the one with the fucking attitude. Ugh._

__

_You’re bloody hilarious Demavend. Bloody. Hilarious._

“Regardless, everyone be seated.” He turns to the bailiff. “Marty, please bring out the accused.”

Samuel is brought into the courtroom in an orange jumpsuit and handcuffs. The first thing he sees is Triss’ warm smile, and her gentle squeeze on his arm as he’s deposited beside her bolsters his confidence notably. The subtleties of the whole exchange do not go unnoticed by Yennefer.

__

_Of course she’d be the type to flirt with her client. The slut practically has her tits out with her shirt unbuttoned like that._

“Ms. Vengerberg, please present the indictment. I won’t ask again.”

Yennefer’s attention snaps back to Judge Demavend.

__

_Shit. I can’t let her undermine my focus. Stay on target Yen._

“Of course, your honour.” She rises and addresses the jury primarily.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my name is Yennefer Vengerberg and I will be representing the state during this case. I am now going to read to you the True Bill of Indictment, which has been returned by the Vizima County Grand Jury in this case. It reads as follows: In the name and by the authority of Vizima County, State of Temeria, duly organized at the January Term…”

__

_5 minutes in and I’m already sick of her voice. Ugh._

“…that one Samuel Bochanan, defendant, on or about the 21st day of July 2019 did unlawfully cause grievous harm to Anita Carellas, an individual, through aggravated battery, with the intention of murder.” Yennefer goes on to list the District Attorney and foreman of the Grand Jury as signatories of the bill before sitting back down.

“Ms. Merigold, how does your client plead?”

She rises and proudly exclaims, “Your honour, and ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my client pleads not guilty.”

__

_I wouldn’t be so cocky, you little shit._

Judge Demavend smiles warmly, “The enthusiasm is appreciated, Ms. Merigold. Perhaps Ms. Vengerberg could deliver her opening statement with a similar bounce, eh?”

Half-ignoring Demavend’s comment, Yennefer clears her throat and takes the floor, “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, we will show, by producing documentary evidence and witnesses, that the defendant is guilty as charged.”

She struts in front in the jury, head held high and arms behind her back.

“We will provide you with the alibi of the defendant for the night of the incident, followed by a cross-examination. Their mutual neighbour will also testify that they witnessed Samuel entering and exiting the apartment of Anita several times over the past 3 months, and that they heard unusual noises on the night of the incident.”

Once Yennefer sits back down, Triss rises for her opening statement, “As Samuel Bochanan’s defense attorney, it’s my job to convince all of you that he is in fact innocent. It is my hope that you will listen attentively to my client’s alibi and think critically when faced with the answers both he and the witness provide on the stand when under oath.

“Thank you, ladies. Let’s get the ball rolling then. Bring the defendant to the stand. The defense has the floor.”

Triss whispers to Samuel right before he’s escorted up, “Just answer like we practiced. You’ve got this.” Samuel replies with an appreciative nod.

After he takes the pledge, Triss approaches and asks Samuel a few questions about where he was and what he was doing at the time of the incident, nodding her head towards the jury so that he knows who he’s really explaining this to. He replies that he was in his apartment doing light exercises with his headphones in. His response becomes noticeably more emotional when he explains he didn’t hear any of the commotion in Anita’s apartment until it was too late, and he wished he was able to reach her in time. Triss thanks him for his honesty and returns to her seat.

“Prosecution, you’re up.”

Yennefer retrieves a sheet from her briefcase before approaching Samuel. She asks him several questions intended to make him seem unlikable, or to catch him in a lie, but none of them quite hit the mark. As her frustration rises, she decides to push in an unexpected direction.

“According to the report provided by the police, your co-workers were questioned by the police, which provided us with several insights. Most notably, they claimed to have asked you out to drinks on the night of the incident. You refused. Could you explain why?”

Samuel is momentarily blindsided by the question, but quickly recovers and answers calmly, “I almost always refuse ma’am. 9 times out of 10 I’ll say no.”

“And why is that, hmm? Do you have other plans on such evenings?”

“Not usually. I just like to keep a level head, ma’am. My days of hard drinking are long gone. There’s not a lick of beer in my apartment either. The only times I go drinking with my co-workers is when it’s a special occasion, like when one of ‘ems getting married or having a kid.”

__

_That’s my boy. Put that bitch in her place._

__

_Well done lug-head, you’re smarter than you look._

“No further questions, your honour.” She says in a deadpan tone as she swaggers back to her chair.

__

_Why does she still look so confident? Probably just doesn’t realise how screwed she is._

Samuel is brought down from the stand and back to Triss’ side. After a moment of sifting through her notes, Yennefer says, “I’d like to call our primary witness, Francis Dagworth, to the stand.”

__

_Pfft. You mean your **only** witness._

An old, unkempt woman rises from the walks up looking quite nervous. The bailiff directs her to the stand and she takes the pledge before Yennefer runs her through some simple questions to establish her relation to the victim for the jury. She tells the court that she is a neighbour of both Anita and Samuel, though she is much friendlier with the former. Yennefer asks her to describe the noises she heard. She answers with a rough description of a woman shouting, muffled by the walls between them, and slamming noises, like something heavy being knocked over. Yennefer nods and proclaims that this lines up with the police’s description of Anita’s tousled apartment, and that she has no further questions.

While the neighbour is on the stand, Triss approaches with her own set of questions. “Ms. Dagworth, would you say Anita was an introvert or an extravert?”

“I-”

“Objection!” Yennefer yells.

“On what grounds?” Judge Demavend responds.

“Relevance, your honour.”

“Objection sustained. Move it along Ms. Merigold.”

Triss briefly smiles and nods, “Right. Ms. Dagworth, you’ve told us that you often heard my client coming and going from Anita’s home. Has there been many other visitors that you’ve seen or heard?”

“Well, not really. She had family over last month, but that was just for a couple of days. When she first moved in there was a man around her age that visited often. A boyfriend, I recall her saying.”

“Had he visited recently?”

“Objection, your honour.”

“Sustained.”

Triss draws in a sharp breath, irked by Yennefer’s interruptions but refusing to be dissuaded. “Ms. Dagworth, was there a pattern to my client’s visits?”

“It was like clockwork actually. Every Wednesday, Thursday, and sometimes on a Sunday.”

__

_What the hell is she getting at?_

“Was there a specific time he would visit at?”

Francis thinks for a moment before replying, “Yes, yes there was. I’d always hear that door open at 10:30, maybe 10:40 sometimes, when I’m watching my shows. It squeals like a banshee, you see. I’d always tell the poor girl to put some oil on the damn thing but she… she never did.” A few tears roll down her cheeks and she quickly wipes them away.

“I’m sorry Ms. Dagworth, I’ve just one more question when you’re ready. You’ve previously stated that on July 21st, the night of the crime, you heard unusual noises from Anita’s apartment - heavy slams and muffled shouting. Around what time did you hear these noises?”

“I-”

“Objection!” Yennefer calls out once more.

“Denied. Continue with your answer Ms. Dagworth.” Judge Demavend is now leaning forward curiously.

“I heard the noises around 9:15. I didn’t hear the door open, but I had the radio on really loud while I made a late dinner. I turned it down when I started eating, and then the ruckus started.”

Turning to the jury, Triss says, “This matches the forensics report provided by the police, which places the murder attempt at roughly the same point in time. Anita and Samuel were great friends and they met up at very specific times. My argument, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, is that it is highly unlikely, and quite frankly implausible, that my client would have been at Anita’s residence at the time of the incident.”

She turns her head back to the witness, “Thank you sincerely, Ms. Dagworth. No further questions your honour.”

When she sits back down, Samuel leans over. “You’re doing real good ma’am. Thanks.” She accepts his praise with a nod. Yennefer stares daggers into her, but immediately looks away when Triss glances her way.

__

_The prissy bitch is beat and she knows it._

__

_Nice try, but you’ve already lost._

Once the witness has left the stand, Judge Demavend says, “Prosecution, a closing statement please.”

Yennefer gives a short speech about the danger of letting the only suspect walk away as a free man, especially since he is a former convict.

Triss retorts with a closing statement about second chances, and not judging people based on past mistakes. She emphasizes that Samuel has made significant headway in turning his life around, and there is next to nothing tying him to the crime.

__

_What a load of horseshit._

“Thank you for your efforts ladies. Our path from here shall be decided by the jury. In good time, I hope. Court is adjourned.” The gavel bangs and Yennefer is the first to leave, not even stopping when Anita’s family try to flag her down.

“I really showed her, didn’t I?” Triss smirks at Samuel.

“Yes you did ma’am, yes you did. I’m damn lucky to have you representing me.”

“You’re a flatterer! See you soon Samuel.” They part ways as he is escorted back to his holding cell.

* * *

“Ugh. I can’t stand that tart!” Yennefer’s shout echoes through the empty bathroom as she slams her briefcase down onto the counter next to the sink. “Why must I be tormented so?”

The bathroom door opens and Triss walks in, adjusting her collar. Both girls share a moment of surprise before placing their hands on their hips and getting ready to squabble.

“Come to taunt me, _Merigold_?”

“If I knew you were in here I would have kept walking, _Vengerberg_.”

Hateful silence takes over for several long seconds. Yennefer is the first to break it.

“I can’t believe you made the witness cry on the stand. Are you that talentless that you need to rely on waterworks to sway a jury?”

“I didn’t make anybody do anything. And don’t you fucking dare question my skill, I worked my ass off to get here!” Triss jabs a finger towards Yennefer.

“Oh please, you’re not even _from_ here. What happened, actually? Did everyone in Maribor get sick of you? I’d imagine so.”

“Imagine all you want. At least I didn’t sell my soul to work for a megafirm! Unlike you, I actually give a fuck about my clients and getting justice!”

In an instant Yennefer spits back, “You don’t know shit about me, _wanker_.”

“Likewise, _tramp_.”

Yennefer turns away and leans against the sink, staring forward at her own reflection.

“Oh just piss off already.”

“I was going to ‘piss off’ in here actually,” she mocks the accent of her rival, “but it looks like this place has a vermin problem!” Satisfied with her final jab, Triss leaves the bathroom.

The raven-haired attorney stews in silence.

__

_What an absolute waste of energy. God, I wish she wasn’t such a combative arse. I ought to spank that arse and show her who’s in charge. Maybe then she’d stop running her mouth. Ha!_

Outside, Triss breathes in deeply and tries to calm down.

__

_Riled up again. Goddammit. Why does she have to be so standoffish and cold? She probably just needs someone to fuck the frigidness out of her… Whatever, she’s not worth the effort anyway._

* * *

Roughly three hours later, the two find themselves back in the courtroom with Judge Demavend and the assembled jury, who have finished deliberations.

“Has the jury found a verdict? We wait with bated breath.”

One of them rises and says, “Your honour, the jury has not found a verdict. We’re tied 6-6.”

“WHAT?!” The attorneys both cry out simultaneously.

Judge Demavend looks and sounds incredibly pleased. “A deadlock, eh? Ladies, it looks like we’ll be seeing each other again quite soon. The retrial will be two weeks from today. I expect it will be rather intense and passionate, oh yes… Until then, the defendant is released on bail and court is adjourned.”

The gavel bangs. Triss and Yennefer glare at each other with more contempt than ever before.

__

_You’ve got a war on your hands, Vengerberg._

__

_You’re going to be in tears when I’m done with you, Merigold._


	2. Office Debauchery

Triss Merigold’s office is as modest as her apartment. Comfortable, but by no means luxurious. Her law degree is mounted on the wall, next to a scantily clad picture of the attorney herself from her brief incursion into modelling during her college days.

It’s a bright evening, and Triss is joined by her client Samuel. They had previously been discussing the fine details of the case and how they could make sure it’s airtight for the retrial, and what was initially a very formal conversation had now shifted to something more informal. Triss sat behind her desk for most of it, eventually standing up to pour two glasses of scotch for a toast in honour of their mini victory. Rather than sit back down, she opts to lean back against one of her cabinets. In this more relaxed environment, they meander between topics, sipping at their scotch, talking about everything from systemic injustice to local gossip. Mundane stuff.

When they return to the topic of the case, Triss muses, “Since I’m technically a public defender working for the state, I’m going to call up and see what they can do about getting me a private detective. Might be good to have an extra pair of hands, just in case we need it.”

“You’re the expert, ma’am.” He finishes his drink. “Hey, that lady working for Eilhart & Findabair seemed to have her shit together, and the judge knew both of you. Is she a big deal or something?”

“Yennefer? God, I can’t stand her. Always so smug and petty, and she has this outdated ‘prim and proper’ thing going on. I don’t know how the hell she even beat us.”

Triss’ vexation catches Samuel off guard. He continues, “She’s good, that much is obvious ma’am. But you’re better. You’ve got fire, and she’s got… a resting bitch face.”

They both laugh. In a more carefree tone he adds, “I have to admit though, she’s one hell of a looker.”

Triss scoffs and downs the rest of her drink., then bites her lip and gives Samuel a sultry look. “And what about me, Sam?”

There’s a short pause as he eyes her up and considers what to say next. “You’re a damn fine woman ma’am. In more ways than one.”

You’re goddamned right.

She smiles and walks right up to him, setting her glass down on her desk and placing a hand on his chest. “Flattery will get you everywhere Mr. Bochanan.”

Another pause - this one is longer and more sexually tense. “Are you sure you want to do this, ma’am? With me?”

“You’ve been a good boy Sam. You deserve it…” Her hand lowers to his crotch and grasps his hardening length through his jeans. “And I deserve it too, don’t I?”

He groans at her touch and softly chuckles. “Yeah. Absolutely.”

She suddenly shoves him back into his chair and says, “Show me what I’m working with.”

Within moments Samuel has his belt off and his jeans and underwear pooled at his feet, his hardening cock fully exposed.

Thicker than I’m used to, though I’m _definitely_ not complaining.

Triss hums in appreciation while she unbuttons her blazer, throwing her arms back and letting it fall to the ground. She turns around and teases Samuel as she slowly pulls her pants down over her ample ass. He wolf whistles and she turns back to face him, leaving the rest of her clothes on save for undoing another button on her shirt and parting it to give a better view of her cleavage.

Going down on her hands and knees, she crawls forward until her face is mere inches from his cock. After a long, torturous lick from base to tip, Triss purrs, “Fuck. I’m going to bury this thing in my throat. I’m going to fuck my face on your cock until its covered in spit, and you’re going to feed me a fat load, okay? Are you going to feed me your cum Sam?”

He responds by placing his thumb in her mouth - which she sucks like a lollipop - and saying, “I’m going to give you whatever you want, babe. Whatever you fuckin’ want.” She batts her eyelashes and moans before he removes his thumb, at which point she immediately replaces it with his cock. Her lips stretch around its girth as she takes it deeper and deeper, stopping halfway down and giving him a wink.

The redhead changes her tempo at the drop of a hat, spending a couple seconds massaging him with her tongue and slowly sucking before launching into a bout of rapid slurps up and down his meat, then going slow again. Saliva splutters out the sides of her mouth and starts drooling down her chin. After a few minutes of this, she shifts slightly on her knees and puts her hands on his thighs. “Time to go all the way, big boy.”

She opens wide and sinks down on his wet cock, taking him all the way down to the base and staying there. Samuel lets out a deep groan of pleasure and convulses for a moment as he shoots pre-cum down her throat.

“Holy shit. You’re so fuckin’ good Triss. Keep sucking me just like that. Yeahhh, use your tongue. God damn.” He puts one hand on her head, keeping her nose pressed against his pelvis, while he reaches over and slaps her ass with his other hand.

Fuck yes.

Triss giggles and hums around his cock, then starts swaying her butt side to side. Samuel takes this as encouragement to continue spanking, and red hand marks soon appear on both of her juicy cheeks. Triss finally pulls off and inhales sharply. Thick strings of spit connect her lips to his cock and drip down her chin onto her pendant and her breasts. “You like spanking that lawyer booty while I deepthroat your cock like a whore?”

He grunts affirmatively as she jerks him off and fondles his balls. She lowers her mouth to his balls, sucking in one orb then releasing it with a loud ‘pop’ and swapping to the other one. Samuel continues to slap her ass as she stops sucking and starts licking, worshipping his balls with her tongue, covering every inch of them with saliva, still furiously jacking him off with one hand while the other descends into her panties and rubs her soaked folds.

Samuel leans back and grabs Triss’ forearm, pulling her hand from his dick. He starts slapping his meat across her face. It wetly slaps against her skin, smudging her already runny makeup. Triss smiles and eggs him on, “Fuck yeah. Rub that massive cock all over my pretty face. Show me what I’m worth. Give me what I deserve. I want to taste it again. Please, Samuel. I want to swallow your load. I want to-”

She’s cut off as Samuel grabs her head with both hands and rams his pole past her lips and straight into her throat. She gags momentarily before adjusting to the brutal facefuck being inflicted upon her. When her brain catches up to the depravity of the situation, the hand in her panties delves deeper and she starts fingering herself proper while her free hand mauls one of her tits through her shirt.

The facefuck continues for several minutes, the only sounds in the room being the groans of Samuel and the wet sounds of Triss choking on his dick. Her chest is covered in spit and pre-cum, either soaking through her loose shirt or trickling down her skin towards her pussy, which is itself is dripping onto the floor. The entire situation is too hot for Triss to bear, her fingers moving frantically to drive her to orgasm while her throat is raided relentlessly. Her eyes roll back as she passes the point of no return, a deep, guttural moan signalling her orgasm. Her pussy spasms around her fingers and her throat vibrates intensely Samuel’s cock, bringing him right to the edge.

“Oh fuck, Triss, I’m going to fucking cum. Shit. Oh my god…”

He slows down and pulls back so only half his tip sits between her lips. He keeps one hand on her hand and uses the other to jack off straight into her mouth. Coming down from her own orgasm, she accepts his thick load with a grateful hum. After pumping out several spurts, he finally retreats from her mouth and completely slumps back in his chair, breathing heavily. Triss tips her head back and waits for Samuel to look back at her before she opens wide and showing him the fruits of their mutual labour. She swirls it around with her tongue, then winks and gulps it all down.

Samuel chuckles a bit and says, “Do all your clients get this treatment, or am I just a lucky son of a bitch?” Triss leans forward and gives him one last suck before replying, “Only the ones who can behave, and show me the respect I’m due.”

Which is, unfortunately, not very many.

Lifting her hand from her pussy, she licks her juices off her fingers and adds, “Nothing is sexier to me than _respect_, Samuel.”

* * *

Yennefer Vengerberg sits on a luxurious sofa in a grand, spacious office so high up that the skyline is visible from the windows. It’s not her office; it’s the office of one of her two bosses, who are both present in some way.  
The glamourous Philippa Eilhart is dressed in a low-cut, loose blouse and a tight knee-length skirt. She paces around the room, rubbing her temple in mild frustration and speaking authoritatively to her partner on the phone.

“. . . I got it sorted this morning, now stop fussing for god’s sake . . . What did I just say, Francesca?”

Yennefer politely waits, pursing her lips and idling looking out the window. She hears something akin to a shout coming through the phone and Philippa sighs.

“You’re going to drive me absolutely mad one of these days. Fine, I’ll go to the stupid gala. But you owe me, alright? . . . Oh shut up, you. And have a good day in court. Kick their ass. Bye.”

Putting down the phone, she turns to Yennefer and clicks her tongue. “Apologies for that, dear. My partner can sometimes be a handful.”

Oh really? I couldn’t tell.

“She’s fronting the Houtborg case, correct? Ms. Findabair must be under quite a lot of pressure, which I’m sure is taking its toll-“

Yennefer abruptly stops speaking when Philippa raises her hand in a silencing gesture. “I summoned you here to discuss your case, Ms. Vengerberg. So let’s get right into it, shall we?” She steps over to the sofa and sits next to Yennefer, maintaining a strange balance between a business and casual atmosphere.

“Right, of course Ms. Eilhart. I regret that it has gone to a retrial, but I am entirely confident I can secure a clear win for this firm.”

“You were ‘entirely confident’ the last time around. But something happened, didn’t it?”

What the fuck are you trying to say?

Bitterness wells up within Yennefer, but she hides it well. “I’m… not sure what you mean, Ms. Eilhart.”

Philippa inches closer to Yennefer on the couch, “Yes you do, dear. It’s quite clear that the redhead has done a number on you. She’s talented, wouldn’t you agree?”

Yennefer shoots back in an instant, “More luck than anything else.”

“There is no such thing as luck in our line of work. But there are certainly looks, and she’s got those. Wouldn’t you agree, Ms. Vengerberg?”

“Whatever she does, I can do better. Whatever she has, I can assure you I have more.”

Philippa is now next to her, their knees touching. Slender fingers trace Yennefer’s jaw as Philippa says, “Oh, I’m aware of your many talents, dear.” Her fingers lightly run over the attorney’s lips, “Intimately aware, one might say.” 

“Ms. Eilhart, that’s not why you gave me this case, is it? Some of my colleagues have begun to think-” She’s once more cut off by Philippa.

“I gave you the Bochanan case because you’re a good lawyer, not because you give good head. But I won’t lie - the cunnilingus is an excellent bonus.”

Just ‘good’, eh? Understatement of the century. I’m the bloody best.

“I’m happy to hear that Ms. Eilhart.”

“Good. Just to be sure, however, I’m assigning Ted as your second chair.”

Yennefer frowns. “Ted? Really? How is he supposed to see something I haven’t when he can’t even see his own cock-” She’s silenced a third time.

“Don’t dwell on it. Win this case for us, Yennefer, and you’ll be among the most desired attorneys in our firm. Of that there is no doubt.”

Yennefer takes a moment to contemplate, then nods in resolute acknowledgement.

“Now, getting back to the topic of your talents…” She bites her bottom lip and opens her legs wide, making it abundantly clear as to what she’s referring to.

“It’d be my pleasure, Ms. Eilhart. And yours, of course.”

Within the next few moments their lips come together, their tongues swirling and moving back and forth in time with the gentle caresses of their hands against each other’s clothed body. Whenever the pace becomes just slightly frustrating, they escalate.

It’s a slow, sultry contest between the two women. Philippa has an implicit role of power and dominance, which she relishes, but she doesn’t seem to mind when the naturally strong-willed Yennefer occasionally takes the reins. 

Philippa removes Yennefer’s suit jacket for better access to the firm orbs underneath, playfully squeezing each tit through her shirt and lacey bra. In response, the younger attorney hikes her boss’ skirt up and starts teasing her through her silk panties, which dampen by the second. They kiss, grope, and moan for several minutes until the need becomes too much for Philippa to bear.

“I think it’s time you got on your knees, dear.”

Yennefer is happy to oblige her, seductively sliding off the sofa and kneeling before her mentor, who rises just briefly to drop her panties. Sitting back down and kicking her underwear off her high-heeled foot, Philippa spreads her legs wide and relaxes back, ready to be pleasured. Yennefer leans forward, taking control with one decisive lick. A shiver runs through the woman above her, who has now closed her eyes and grins with anticipation of what – and who – is to come.

One lick turns into a flurry of them as Yennefer kicks things into gear, eagerly lapping away at the glistening mound of her boss, who hums delightedly. 

You shan’t be having all the fun, ‘dear’.

One hand rises to join her tongue in an energetic dance centred around the pussy of her boss while the other lowers to tend to deftly undo her work pants, slip beneath her panties, and tend to her own aching quim.

A mild yelp suddenly emits from Phillipa, “Your fingers are so cold! Good lord, it’s delightful!”

With blatant sarcasm, Yennefer replies, “They call me an ice-queen for a reason, Ms. Eilhart.”

A digit sinks into the amused executive, curling and twisting, then pulls out. A moment later it re-enters alongside Yennefer’s tongue, eliciting a moan from above, as well as an emphatic “Yes, that’s it Yennefer. Keep going.”

Another finger slides in next to the first. Philippa’s pussy squelches when those fingers play her like a fiddle, moving in and out repeatedly at a rapid pace and exploring every inch of her tunnel, her swelling clit now being assailed by Yennefer’s expert tongue. This change in tactics quickly has Philippa squirming in her seat, her legs jolting every time Yennefer hits the right spot – which is quite often. Greedy for more, she pulls down her blouse and frees her breasts from her bra, fondling them with both hands.

Yennefer continues to finger-bang her boss, and the hand below mirrors the hand above, building the pleasure between the two of them and finally drawing out a moan of pleasure from Yennefer, bringing her even deeper into this lustful haze.

Philippa drops one hand down and runs it through her employee’s hair, entangling it among the soft raven locks. With a firm grip she pulls Yennefer in, keeping her as close as possible. Her own hips move with a mind of their own, rolling in her seat, grinding her cunt against Yennefer’s keen tongue. For her part, Yennefer’s fingers work overtime in her pussy, driving her closer to her starry destination. Her juices trail down to her hand and drip onto the floor as she relentlessly frigs herself, maintaining dual concentration on both intense tasks at once.

A series of sharp breaths and loud cries signal Philippa’s oncoming climax. As she reaches her peak, she says, “Make me come Yennefer, yesss, that’s it, make your boss fucking cum on your face. Right into your slutty mouth… FUCK!”

The acclaimed executive’s orgasmic wails can be heard by anyone on the same floor – and perhaps even the floor below. She bucks against Yennefer, who remains attached to her pussy, eagerly slurping away while she brings herself to her own explosive finish. The younger attorney’s eyes break contact with her boss, her gaze unfocused and blurry as she finally falls over the edge into maddening pleasure. Her moans are contained to the office space they occupy, muffled by the still spasming vagina of the older woman.

I love my job.

They ride out the rest of their orgasms in this same position, groaning in irregular pitches, and rubbing themselves and each other. It’s at least a minute before they finally part, their breath shallow.

Smirking and clearly pleased with herself, with girl-cum dripping from her chin, the younger attorney crawls back onto the sofa and straddles the completely worn-out Philippa, who can only manage a flirty giggle in response. Her eyes light up however when Yennefer brings a sticky hand to her lips. Not missing a beat, she immediately takes several fingers into her mouth and moans as she sucks off Yennefer’s juices. When the fingers retract, the lips collide, and Philippa is now met with her own taste, intermingling with Yennefer’s. The two kiss and suck and lick for the next few minutes, revelling in their post-orgasm haze, and in the sheer debauchery of being so exposed in their workplace. It’s quite clear that is something Philippa isn’t worried about, and neither is her protégé. 


End file.
